Chapter 669: Warm Quilt, Dreamy Fragrance

The Earl's mansion, Jia Cong's courtyard.

Zhi Shao saw Jia Cong's eyes, clear and deep as a still pool, smiling gently as he gazed at her.

In daily life, the two often brushed shoulders, laughed and played without restraint, deeply intimate.

Lately, for some reason, every time their eyes met, her heart would inexplicably grow warm…

She couldn't help blushing and said, "I thought Cong Sanye wouldn't be back from court for a while, so I had time to wash my hair."

Jia Cong glanced around and asked curiously, "Why's it so quiet? Where did the others go wandering?"

Zhi Shao hurriedly replied, "They're all at home—just… just taking a nap."

Jia Cong chuckled, "The sun's almost set—how can they still be napping? They've turned into lazy girls."

Zhi Shao couldn't help laughing, and Qingwen, who had been eavesdropping behind the side room door, muttered indignantly, "Who's the lazy girl? You're slandering us when we're not around, hmph!"

Jia Cong saw Zhi Shao's long hair, wet and glossy, cascading past her slender waist in curls, its dark luster highlighting her eyebrows like dark ink, her skin like polished jade, her eyes like water.

He smiled and said, "The sun's set now—it's not as warm as midday. Be careful, your hair won't dry if you catch a chill."

He took the cotton cloth from her hand, stepped behind her, and gently rubbed her damp hair.

Zhi Shao's cheeks grew even redder, yet she didn't stop him, closing her eyes slightly as he rubbed her hair.

The orange-red glow of the setting sun bathed the entire courtyard in bright hues, lighting the two of them with an unusually intimate warmth.

Her dried hair, stirred by the evening breeze, released a fresh fragrance, shimmering faintly in the sunset.

Lingguan and Douguan peered through the door crack of the side room, watching the two outside; both their eyes held traces of envy.

Douguan seemed regretful and said, "If I'd known, I wouldn't have hidden—I wish Cong Sanye would dry my hair too."

Lingguan laughed at her childish pretense and said, "You're barely a child—why do you want Cong Sanye to dry your hair? Shameless."

Douguan pouted, "Zhi Shao gets it—why not me?"

Lingguan smiled, "Because Cong Sanye is closest to Zhi Shao—of course he can."

Douguan glanced outside again, seeing Cong Sanye drying Zhi Shao's hair while saying something that made her laugh heartily.

She said, "Xiao Fu, aren't you close to Cong Sanye too? He never asks anyone else to rub his head or massage his shoulders—he even lets you sing songs with him in the study."

"Next time, you ask him to dry your hair—we'll get to enjoy it too."

Lingguan's face flushed, and she scolded playfully, "You're so young but so crafty—always thinking strange things. Being close isn't the same as being close."

Douguan looked confused. "Xiao Fu, what's all this tangled talk? I don't understand."

Lingguan smiled but didn't answer, thinking that Zhi Shao was different—she had served tea to the old lady of the Western Courtyard, she was already Cong Sanye's woman…

All the girls in the courtyard knew this. At first, they teased Zhi Shao and Wu'er, but later no one mentioned it—this was ordinary in a great household.

Yet in every girl's heart, it stirred tender, dreamy thoughts, awakening shy, fluttering feelings—youthful hearts, full of longing, inevitably grew thoughtful.

In the days that followed, whenever Zhi Shao or Wu'er were on night duty, the others would whisper, casting ambiguous, curious glances.

Zhi Shao and Wu'er felt some shame and annoyance, but it only brought more laughter from the others, adding a strange amusement to the courtyard.

But Lingguan knew clearly: for days past, Cong Sanye had received guests daily, returning from the Western Courtyard at sunset, reeking of wine and exhaustion, often washing up and going straight to bed.

Later, he began working daily at the workshops outside the city, often returning after dark, and with his appointment as Hanlin official, his duties multiplied—he was busy all day.

There seemed to be no stir in his room; once, when Zhi Shao caught a cold, she had Lingguan take her night duty.

Everything seemed as usual—no whispered bawdy tales from the inner maids about his room…

Those tales were whispered by Qingwen to Lingguan; each time Lingguan recalled them, her face flushed and her heart raced.

She couldn't help herself, gently pushing open the door crack—Cong Sanye had already dried Zhi Shao's hair.

He casually picked up Zhi Shao's washbasin, and the two walked together back to the main hall, their closeness unmistakable.

…

When dusk fell, Wu'er returned from the Western Courtyard and called Lingguan to prepare dinner.

Everyone gathered around the large table in the main hall, talking and eating together.

Jia Cong noticed Qingwen, Zhen Ying Lady Lian, Lingguan, and others still had damp hair, loosely tied in buns—he smiled faintly but said nothing.

Qingwen picked up a piece of braised pork and placed it in Jia Cong's bowl.

Seeing him eat it with evident pleasure, she said, "Cong Sanye, you're back early today—I didn't even see you come in.

I was sewing inside. The weather's so hot now—I wanted to make you two soft smoke-silk undergarments so you'll stay cool at night."

After talking so long, Qingwen still resented being called a lazy girl and couldn't help adding, "Cong Sanye, I never nap."

Zhen Ying Lady Lian and Lingguan caught her meaning and lowered their heads, stifling laughter.

Only Douguan, innocent and blunt, giggled and opened her mouth to speak—until Lingguan pinched her, and she snapped it shut.

Zhi Shao suppressed her smile, her hand unconsciously touching her braid, recalling Jia Cong's actions in the courtyard—her scalp still tingled faintly.

Jia Cong said casually, "Qingwen, not napping isn't good. Girls who nap regularly have better complexions—they look prettier."

Qingwen touched her already lovely face and smiled, "If Cong Sanye says so, I'll nap from now on—don't call me a lazy girl again."

Everyone heard this and could no longer hold back—they burst into laughter.

Qingwen was indignant. "What are you laughing at? Do you all want to be lazy girls?"

Wu'er had been busy managing affairs at the Western Courtyard all day and didn't know what was going on. She looked puzzled. "What's going on today? Why are you all acting so strange?"

After dinner, the June heat was oppressive—moving even slightly made one feel uncomfortable.

Jia Cong went to the back courtyard to bathe; Zhi Shao quickly gathered his change of clothes and took them to the bathhouse.

After Jia Cong bathed, the other girls each fetched their undergarments and chattered as they went together to the bathhouse to rinse off.

When all were done, tables and reclining chairs were set up on the corridor outside the main hall, and everyone gathered to cool off.

Wu'er summoned the head housekeeper to hang lanterns along the corridor; the lights glowed warmly, bright and clear, while the night sky beyond the corridor was ink-black, dotted with stars.

Jia Cong didn't want to be alone—he took up a leisurely book and sat on the corridor. Zhi Shao carefully moved his recliner under the lantern light so he wouldn't strain his eyes.

Now that he had earned his title, he no longer burned oil lamps daily in his study—he read as the mood struck him, not just classics and official texts, but also miscellaneous learning.

As Bao Yu said, now that he had earned his title, he no longer toiled over the sages' writings, preferring to idle with his sisters and maids—a hypocrisy that pained him deeply.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian pulled Zhi Shao to play weiqi; Qingwen called Lingguan and Douguan to play leaf cards, and when they were short-handed, she called Juan'er too.

Wu'er brewed a pot of Yunwu Yunwu Jian tea for everyone to drink after dinner to aid digestion.

Laughter from Qingwen and Douguan echoed along the corridor—likely from winning hands, mixed with the soft clack of Zhen Ying Lady Lian and Zhi Shao's go pieces.

As time passed, the coolness of night faded, the air grew heavy and stifling; Qingwen took up a fan and fanned ceaselessly.

Wu'er stepped outside the corridor, looked up at the sky—the stars were mostly obscured.

She said, "The weather's like this—there'll be heavy rain tonight. Tomorrow won't be so scorching—it'll be much cooler. Don't forget to close your windows when you sleep."

When the hour of Hai passed, Douguan, young as she was, began yawning; the others too felt drowsy.

Unlike later eras, their routines still followed early sleep and early rise—after Hai, unless something delayed them, it was time for bed.

In the past, Jia Cong, studying for exams, would read until Zi; Zhen Ying Lady Lian often stayed up with him, and the girls followed suit.

Since Jia Cong passed the palace examination, he had loosened his own reins, and the girls around him had returned to their normal schedules.

Lingguan rubbed Douguan's small face, preparing to take her to bed; Qingwen began gathering the leaf cards; Wu'er was tidying the tea set.

Everyone was preparing to leave, but something felt odd—Zhi Shao hadn't moved. She glanced at Jia Cong, still reading.

Qingwen was the first to realize—today was Zhi Shao's night duty…

Aside from Wu'er, the others recalled the intimate scene between Jia Cong and Zhi Shao that afternoon.

Each of them felt a strange, tender flutter…

Qingwen's movements gathering the cards slowed—suddenly, a strange sense of loss welled in her heart.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian's bright, watery eyes flickered between Zhi Shao and Jia Cong, unaware of anything amiss.

Zhi Shao took a sip of tea, her attention still on the weiqi board, even urging Zhen Ying Lady Lian to play.

Lingguan suddenly remembered: Douguan had said Cong Sanye was close to her. Seeing Zhi Shao absorbed in the game, her cheeks flushed, and she quickly led Douguan back to their room.

Qingwen lingered, finally gathering the cards and leaving—then, suddenly, blurted out, "Cong Sanye, you should rest early too."

Jia Cong's eyes never left his book, but he heard her and replied, "I'll rest after these few pages—you go ahead."

Qingwen instantly regretted it—what a fool she was! Why say that now? So strange!

Wu'er noticed Qingwen's reluctance to leave and sensed something odd, but since she'd been managing affairs at the Western Courtyard all morning, she didn't grasp the reason.

She saw Jia Cong leisurely flipping through his book, Zhi Shao and Zhen Ying Lady Lian still playing weiqi—nothing seemed out of place.

Yet she was observant, and unintentionally noticed Zhi Shao's cheeks flushed with a faint blush.

!

Wu'er, inexplicably, thought: tonight is Zhi Shao's night duty—her heart suddenly began to race.

That day, when she and Zhi Shao served tea to Jia Mu in Rongqing Hall, everything changed. Every time it was her turn for night duty, she felt fear, nervousness, and a hazy longing.

Zhi Shao must feel the same…

Finally, Wu'er, her face slightly flushed, carried the tea set away.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian placed another stone, then realized only she remained—she fidgeted nervously and murmured, "Zhi Shao sister, I'm sleepy."

Zhi Shao smiled, "Go rest then. Leave the board—let's continue tomorrow."

Zhen Ying Lady Lian rose and returned to her room; only Jia Cong and Zhi Shao remained on the corridor.

Zhi Shao thought of the others' strange behavior, growing more flustered, unsure what to do.

Everything was empty—only the gentle night breeze brushed her cheeks; an unusual emotion spread through her heart.

Jia Cong suddenly closed his book and said, "Zhi Shao, it's late—we should rest." He rose and headed for his room.

Zhi Shao followed him dazedly; they entered the room, and she lit the red candle on the dressing table.

She helped him remove his outer robe, took off his hairpin, and tied his hair with a ribbon to make it easier for him to turn over in sleep.

These small tasks were second nature to her—every motion carried an unspoken tenderness.

Jia Cong watched her bustling about and suddenly remembered encountering Lin Zhao earlier that day, who had said: "A spouse of hardship, standing together, can weather any trial."

He recalled how, back then in the Eastern Courtyard, they had barely survived, with only Zhi Shao by his side.

Later came many upheavals—exile over a thousand li, heart-wrenching grief, loss regained, wild joy—no matter if she remembered the past, she had always stayed beside him.

Years of daily togetherness, sharing meals and rest, holding hands, never parting—this, perhaps, was what it meant to be a spouse of hardship…

…

After styling Jia Cong's hair, Zhi Shao noticed him staring at her; her cheeks flushed and she asked, "Cong Sanye, why are you staring at me?"

Jia Cong unconsciously stepped closer; Zhi Shao's beautiful eyes shimmered, reflecting the candlelight, dancing with bright radiance.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning outside lit up the room, followed by a thunderclap that rolled in with deafening force.

Startled by the deafening thunder, Zhi Shao screamed and instinctively dove into Jia Cong's arms, which he pulled tightly around her.

A gust of wind burst through the window, making the red candle flame sway wildly.

Zhi Shao realized she was held in his arms, and he was embracing her tighter, almost recklessly—her heart surged with deep shame.

Though they had always been intimate, Jia Cong had always kept his distance; he had never embraced her like this before.

She suddenly recalled that moment in Rongqing Hall when she offered tea—hadn't that moment already been planted there, and now was it finally arriving?

Jia Cong held the soft, sweet body in his arms even tighter and whispered, "Zhi Shao."

Zhi Shao lifted her head from his chest and let out a soft hum—her pink, tender lips were instantly sealed by Jia Cong's kiss.

She clearly felt an unprecedented agitation radiating from him, a searing heat burning within.

They had once nuzzled close, but never like this; since that day in Rongqing Hall, something between them had changed.

As time passed, whether Jia Cong, Zhi Shao, or Liu Wuer, all were adapting to this change.

To Jia Cong, Zhi Shao was unlike anyone else; his unusually clear and rational mind refused to let her feel even a hint of pressure—he patiently waited for her to adjust.

Since Jia Cong passed the imperial examination, a mixture of nervous anticipation and sweet acceptance had grown daily within Zhi Shao.

Perhaps it was the intimate act of drying her hair at sunset, their breaths mingling, laughter exchanged, stirring boundless emotion.

Perhaps it was cooling off on the veranda, the girls in the courtyard exchanging curious, ambiguous glances, speaking in teasing, peculiar tones.

All these things acted like strange catalysts—like water finding its channel—until the long-buried longing finally burst forth in this very moment…

…

Jia Cong lavished kisses on the girl's lips, then her cheeks and forehead.

Zhi Shao trembled all over, breathless; outside, thunder roared, and suddenly rain poured down in torrents—the eaves outside the corridor streamed with night rain, the whole world drowned in the clamor of rain.

Cool, moist night winds surged into the room, yet could not cool the burning heat of their embrace.

Long after, Jia Cong gazed at the delicate, jade-like body in his arms, his heart still surging, like crashing tides washing over his soul again and again.

Zhi Shao, sensing the suffocating hold loosen slightly, felt her mind grow hazy; he took her hand and led her to the bed.

They sat on the edge of the bed; Zhi Shao's body felt limp, and she nearly blurted out: "Cong Sanye, I'm afraid."

Only when Jia Cong began unfastening each tiny button of her undergarment did she bite her cherry lips and hold back…

The soft silk undergarment slipped away, revealing her jade-like shoulders, skin smooth as snow, dazzlingly white, her curves softly rounded, her bosom delicate and tender.

Zhi Shao was so ashamed that her whole body tensed; her hands clenched unconsciously, her head tilted aside, eyes tightly shut, unable to look at Jia Cong.

Seeing how terrified she was, Jia Cong felt tenderness rise in his heart; he cupped her smooth shoulders and drew her gently into his arms, kissing her lips and cheeks.

In moments, Zhi Shao seemed to exhale; her body softened slightly, and Jia Cong slowly laid her back onto the bed.

Jia Cong removed her embroidered slippers, untied her silk stockings, then reached for the sash of her silk trousers…

At this point, Zhi Shao was so shy even closing her eyes wasn't enough—she raised both hands to cover her eyes, pretending not to see, surrendering entirely to Jia Cong's touch.

When his hand touched her silk trousers, her whole body jolted involuntarily; she dropped her hands, and every muscle tightened.

Jia Cong seemed to know what she was thinking; he reached out and lowered the bed curtains on both sides, kissed her lips, and whispered softly: "Don't be afraid—I'm here."

Zhi Shao sensed the dimming light within the curtains; her body relaxed slightly as Jia Cong carefully untied the sash of her silk trousers.

Soon after, the bed curtains were pulled open; Jia Cong reached out and tossed out a pair of snow-white silk trousers, then the girl's intimate undergarments.

After that came Jia Cong's own clothes, scattering messily across the floor before the bed…

When Jia Cong's hand reached Zhi Shao's last garment—a pale blue belly-band embroidered with exquisite cloud patterns, and in the center, a vivid pink-and-white peony branch, its design exquisitely beautiful.

Zhi Shao, who had resolved to let Jia Cong do as he pleased, now lowered her hands and instinctively clasped her chest, trying to preserve her final covering.

Her face burned crimson, her voice trembling slightly as if on the verge of tears: "Cong Sanye… must I take off everything?"

Jia Cong suppressed a smile: "Of course everything must come off—it's always like this. What does it matter in our own room?"

Zhi Shao sounded as if she might cry: "Cong Sanye… the candles haven't been blown out yet."

Jia Cong laughed: "We've only just come in—if we blow them out now, don't you think the maids are all watching us, dying to know? They'll know for sure."

"Tomorrow when we rise, even if no one says anything, Qingwen will surely tease us."

"Then don't blow out the candles… Cong Sanye, the door doesn't seem properly closed…"

"I locked it already. Besides, this is our own courtyard—the gate's bolted. Why worry about someone coming in?" (End of Chapter)